Run Away Baby

“No.”

“Come on, Abby-girl,” he said, his voice softer. “Abby-girl,” he said in the sweet, secret voice he used just for her.

“You just want me to have sex with you. That’s why your hand’s on my leg. You’re trying to patch things up quick so we can go have sex.”

Charlie parked his truck and turned to Abby. “Come inside with me,” he said. “And don’t be sad. Don’t be worried. Right, Abby-girl?” He touched her face. “Come inside,” he whispered.

She looked out at the dumpster and garbage by his apartment. A cat went ambling by. Charlie drummed his left hand on the steering wheel while his right resumed rubbing her thigh. He waited.

“Okay,” she said finally. “We’ll go inside. But this is the last time I’m going to be so careless.”

Charlie opened his door. “You coming?” he asked.

Abby nodded and followed him inside.

Chapter 27

A few days after Abby gave her cellphone to Charlie’s cousin for safekeeping, she was lounging around the house on a Sunday, having a low-key morning. She came inside from the pool and found Randall lying on the couch watching television.

“Whatcha watching?” she asked as she dried herself off.

“Nothing. Just flipping around, seeing what’s on.”

“Want anything to drink?” she asked, since she was on her way into the kitchen for some lemonade. Randall didn’t respond so she got her lemonade and came back out to the living room.

“What time are the Reeds expecting us to be at their place?” she asked. They’d been invited to go boating with some of Randall’s friends.

“Sit down.”

“I’m still wet.”

“Sit down.”

“Okay.” She sat down, not recognizing the disaster looming before her.

Randall’s face was glued to the television. He was watching a show that reminded Abby of Schindler’s List. She sipped her lemonade, thinking about the article she’d been reading earlier, advising her to cut dairy out of her diet. She decided maybe she’d give it a try.

Randall couldn’t take his eyes off the television. Now there were 1940’s style cars rushing some children off under the cover of darkness, and moments later a woman weeping in a church. Everyone was speaking in another language. To Abby, it sounded like German.

Randall cleared his throat and spoke, “Do you like this show?”

“I don’t know. What is it?”

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s not a show. It’s a movie.”

“Hmmm.” She took another sip of her lemonade. “I don’t know. It looks… educational, I guess, but maybe like something that you’d need to start from the very beginning to get anything out of. I’m not sure dropping in partway through is working for me.”

Randall nodded thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

“Do you like it?” Abby asked.

“What do you think?”

“I didn’t think you liked movies with subtitles,” Abby said.

“I don’t.”

“Then why are we watching it?”